


First Times

by sidebyside_archivist



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: First Time, M/M, Mild intoxication, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-01
Updated: 2005-10-01
Packaged: 2020-06-26 19:57:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19775317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidebyside_archivist/pseuds/sidebyside_archivist
Summary: Um. Title?





	First Times

**Author's Note:**

> Note from LadyKardasi and Sahviere, the archivists: this story was originally archived at [Side by Side](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Side_by_Side_\(Star_Trek:_TOS_zine\)) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. We tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Side by Side’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sidebyside/profile).
> 
> Author's Notes:  
> Because there seems to be no exact information about the ages of either Jim and Sam Kirk or Spock, I guessed. In the first chapter of this story Jim Kirk is 16 years old and has joined Starfleet in summer. Sam Kirk is 21 and about to go to Mars for his first off world job. Spock is 19, and has been at Starfleet academy for one and a half years already. I assume he left his home with 18, the legal age of consent in the Federation, when he joined Starfleet.  
> WARNING: If you consider 16 to be underage in terms of sexual relationships, this story might squick you. In Germany it is perfectly legal. Also, you're allowed to drink alcohol with 16. I am German, so there :-)
> 
> Foreword: In the beginning there was Kira-Nerys <g> with two challenges:  
> > Write a short scene where Spock first comes in contact with snow.  
> > Write a virgin story, where the two characters of your choice meet each other long before 'canon'. Just... they _both_ have to be virgins.
> 
> I intended this to be a PWP, but it grew into a monster.  
> So, this is for Kira-Nerys, who inspires me with her challenges and is generally a good friend.  
> Thank you to JS Cavalcante for beta duties and thoughtful input, you are a precious gift :-)  
> All remaining errors are entirely my fault.

Life is not an easy game. Given poverty or fame, were you beggar or a queen or a something in between.

Hard the path you have to take, that leaves markings in its wake. First times always do appear whether you go there or here.

Mostly outcomes will surprise, they are trials in disguise. Life is hard, so be aware. Is it truth or is it dare?

*** // ***

The huge ballroom was filled with people. Men in tuxedos, women in elegant dresses, a colorful counterpoint to the black and white of the men. And they were dancing, drinking, eating and generally seemed to enjoying themselves. All but one.

Jim Kirk had his back against the wall, his legs casually crossed at the ankles, his hands shoved inside the pockets of his black trousers. The epitome of boredom.

"Come _on,_ " an exasperated voice next to him said, "it's not that bad."

"Yes it is. Look at me -- stuck in a _tuxedo_."

Jim spat the word as though it tasted bad and tugged at the bow-tie at his throat.

Sam's eyes swept over Jim's body. "You look great, Jimmy," he said dryly. "And maybe you should do something about feeling great too. Just loosen that tie a bit and breathe, hm?"

Going along, Jim took a deep breath. "You're right. Okay, party. Come on, let's see if one of those beauties over there wants to dance."

He looked over at a group of men and women that didn't seem to be paired off for the evening yet. He straightened his tuxedo jacket, waggled his eyebrows and took of.

Sam grinned and shook his head. "They won't know what hit them," he muttered and followed his brother.

*** // ***

Two hours later Sam was the one leaning against a wall. He wiped sweat off his forehead and tried to catch his breath. He was winded after the third wild square dance in a row – what had happened to the good old slow waltz anyway? He was ready to take a break. He grimaced when he saw Jim coming towards him. His brother's lopsided grin and the mischief in his eyes bore no good news.

"Hey old man," Jim drawled, "can I get you something to start your gears again?"

Sam snorted. "Not everyone can be sweet sixteen. I've past that stage; I'm an adult now." He tried to look dignified.

Jim grinned broadly at him. "Come on, one more. Then we go over there and ravage the buffet, what do you say?"

"I can't stay much longer, Jimmy. I need to spend some time with Aurelan before I leave tomorrow."

The smile on Jim's face died. For a while there he'd actually forgotten.

Sam put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm leaving for Mars tomorrow. I won't see her for a long time. You understand that, Jimmy, don't you?"

Jim nodded. He knew how much his brother loved his girlfriend. He knew that Sam loved him too, but it still felt like being abandoned.

Sam squeezed his shoulder.

"I'm sorry. Look, your friends are over there. You go back to them and have a good time, ok? If you're awake by then, come by see me tomorrow afternoon."

"I'll be there." Jim's face was carefully blank.

"Promise?" Sam prompted, his hand tightening on the bony shoulder.

"Promise."

"Ok. So, bye then, Jimmy. See you tomorrow."

Sam hugged him, then walked through the crowd to the door.

Jim stared after him. He didn't want to dance anymore. And he didn't want to go back to the noisy crowd that were his Academy buddies. He really wanted to follow Sam, but he knew that his brother would kick his ass if he did.

So he made his way over to the buffet instead, intent on stuffing his face and getting something to drink.

But when he stood in front of the large table, looking over the variety of dishes from many different Federation planets, suddenly his appetite vanished. What good did it do to have 348 dishes to choose from if there was nobody to share the experience with?

He clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides. He knew he was being unreasonable, the sounds of hundreds of people behind his back in his ears, but suddenly he felt desperately lonely.

Frustrated with himself he shook his head.

"Jimmy, you're crazy," he whispered to himself. Then, straightening, he walked over to the other table, the one that held various drinks, alcoholic and non-alcoholic, hot and cold and utterly overwhelming.

He stared into a bowl of something clear and fruity, trying to make up his mind to either take it already - or go home.

"Do you require assistance?" a quiet voice asked directly in his right ear. He jumped. "Shit!"

He whirled around to tell whoever it was exactly what he Thought of people who sneaked up on others and instead found himself staring open mouthed into the calm face of a Vulcan.

Said Vulcan cocked his head to one side.

"I startled you. I am sorry, I merely wished to be of assistance as you seemed unsure as to what to consume from the buffet. Since my knowledge about the offered food is extensive and about the beverages at least acceptable..."

"Stop."

Jim held up one hand and the Vulcan closed his mouth and raised an eyebrow.

For a moment they stared at each other, then Jim frowned slightly.

"You are Spock, right?"

The Vulcan inclined his head. "Indeed. You know of me?"

Jim snorted. "Who doesn't? I mean," he hastened on, when Spock frowned, "who at the academy hasn't at least heard of you? Your being the first Vulcan in the Fleet and all..." he waved his hand around and then extended it to Spock.

"I am Jim Kirk." Jim raised his hand in the Vulcan salute gesture, then, just to see how the Vulcan would react, extended his hand for the human greeting.

Spock looked at the offered hand, then slowly grasped it in a firm handshake. "I am honored. I have heard of you also. You are Starfleet's youngest cadet ever."

"Wow," Jim exclaimed, "two ests in one place; that's a reason to celebrate."

"Estes?" Spock asked.

"Yeah, you know _first, youngest_."

Spock nodded. "Ah. Superlatives."

Jim grinned. "Right."

At that, Spock's face relaxed and Jim could clearly see amusement in his dark eyes, although his face remained calm.

Suddenly Jim realized that he was still grasping Spock's hand. He let go immediately. Color rose in his cheeks and he turned towards the table again, to cover his embarrassment.

"So, what do you recommend to drink?"

The Vulcan also turned towards the table and pointed to a big bowl in the middle of the table.

"This is Terran strawberry punch. It is made from strawberries, sugar and Champagne. It is not overly sweet however, because the fruit is slightly sour. Also, it does not contain much alcohol. It should be a pleasant experience for you without incapacitating you – as long as you limit your intake."

Spock turned back, and Jim noticed a twinkle in his dark eyes. He grinned.

"I'm impressed. Ok, strawberry punch it is."

Jim took a glass and filled it with the sparkling fluid, making sure to include some strawberries. Then he looked expectantly at his companion.

"Come on, get yours and we'll find a place to sit and enjoy it."

Spock hesitated. "I have never consumed alcohol before. I do not favor intoxicating myself."

Now it was Jim's turn to frown. "Whatever happened to 'sweet' and 'pleasant'?"

Spock silently regarded his feet and Jim could've sworn he looked somewhat ... greener.

"You mean you haven't tasted it? So how do you know what it tastes like?"

"Research," Spock said quietly, still not looking at him.

"Research," Jim repeated incredulously. "You mean all your knowledge" he made a sweeping gesture with the hand that didn't hold the cup, "of these beverages is only theoretical?"

"Correct."

Jim thought hard for a moment, then he said: "Then tonight you should add practical knowledge to your repertoire."

Now the dark head lifted again and slightly shocked brown eyes searched his face.

"Jim, Vulcans do not...."

"Vulcans," Jim interjected "may not, but _you_ will, tonight."

His expression went pleading.

"Please, Spock. Share with me."

Spock swallowed. There seemed to be some internal debate going on behind the calm facade, and Jim, who didn't intend to lose the debate, leaned slightly forward.

Spock swallowed again. Then he nodded gravely.

"As you wish."

*** // ***

Two hours and three refills later the two young men sat in a more or less quiet corner of the hall.

"The punch feels good in here," Jim stated, pointing at his stomach. "Like bubbles in a bath. What does is feel like to you?"

"Vulcans do not have feelings, Jim," Spock said earnestly, "and I do not know bubble baths. But," he frowned and appeared to be concentrating, "the sensations are unique."

Jim giggled at Spock's careful pronunciation of every word.

In fact, the 'sensations' were quite similar. They were both slightly dizzy and had to think harder to find something eloquent and witty to say.

They were just discussing whether to fetch another glass of punch or not when a speaker announced that it was only 60 more minutes till the beginning of the new year and that the people wanting to see the fireworks should please prepare to come outside.

Jim made a face.

Spock squinted at him. "You do not like the fireworks?" he asked.

Jim sighed. "Yes I do. But there's no snow outside and without snow it just isn't the same."

He thought about his home in Iowa, where snow was covering everything outside and sighed again.

"I have never seen snow."

Jim lifted his head at the quiet voice.

"What?"

"I have never seen snow," Spock repeated.

"No, I mean, yes..." Jim drew a deep breath and shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I mean, why?"

"There is no snow on Vulcan, Jim."

"I _know_ that," Jim said, frustrated, "but you've been here over a year now. On Earth."

"That is correct."

Jim stared at him. When nothing more was forthcoming he waved his hands. "So?"

Spock frowned. "I do not understand."

Jim groaned. "You could've gone to see snow in your spare time."

Spock's eyebrow climbed. "I have studies that fill my days. I do not have any spare time."

"But what about _free_ time?" Jim insisted. "Holidays? Weekends?"

"Vulcans do not require holidays."

"Great Galaxy!"

Jim jumped up to pace back and forth. In his mind's eye he could see farm as it must look right now, blanketed in snow, that glistened with reflected starlight. The air would be fresh and sharp, stinging his upturned face as he watched the fireworks.

He slapped a hand down on his leg. "Come on."

When Spock didn't react immediately he urged: "Come _on_ already, we have to hurry if we want to be in time."

Without waiting he started for the door, clearly expecting Spock to follow.

They were already outside the ballroom and moving down a corridor when Spock asked: "Where are we going, Jim?"

Jim grinned happily at him. "Home."

Spock stopped. "I beg your pardon?"

Jim grabbed his arm and dragged him forward. "Move. I'm taking you home with me."

They rounded a corner and another and finally stopped in front of the transporter room. Jim looked the corridor up and down, pushed some numbers on the security lock at the door and within seconds the door opened.

Spock stared at him, gaping. "How did you know... We cannot..."

"Oh come on, I'm not doing any harm, do I?"

Without waiting for an answer Jim entered the room and Spock slipped in behind him before the door slit shut again.

Jim moved to the command panel and punched in some coordinates. Then he announced:

"Done. Get on a pad, Spock."

Spock stood in the middle of the room like a statue, his face now openly revealing puzzlement and indecision.

"Jim, this is against regulations. There will be punishment..."

"I'll take it when it comes. They're all celebrating tonight and then people will be on holidays. Nobody's going to know for days, maybe weeks. Maybe never. Come on, we're running out of time!"

Spock finally stepped onto the platform and Jim shoved the lever forward and jumped onto the pad next to Spock. The familiar buzz made him dizzy for a second, then he stood in the little transporter room at home.

Looking at his chrono he hopped from the pad and was halfway to the door when he noticed, that his companion was not beside him.

He turned and saw Spock still standing on the pad, looking somewhat lost.

"Where are we?" the Vulcan demanded.

"At my home. Spock, the fireworks are scheduled to start in only 15 minutes. Can we please discuss this later?"

Spock straightened and stepped down from the small platform.

Jim hurried through the door and down a small corridor with a wooden floor. He charged through another door and grabbed two heavy coats from hooks on the wall. He threw one to Spock, who caught it easily, and shrugged quickly into the other.

Spock donned the other without comment and then the two young men stepped through another door, outside.

Jim ran through the yard as fast as the snow would let him, toward a small hill behind the house. They would have the best view of the sky over the town and would be able to see all of the fireworks display from that hill.

Just in time they reached the hill. A big bang sounded from the direction of the town, vibrating in the clear air, then the fireworks started.

Jim stood finally still, breathing heavily and watched the show.

The first rocket was a Cochran-Warp-Flight, a large dark shape shooting up into the sky, exploding at the highest point into the shape of a glittering golden starship that then dissolved into a shower of stars that rained down to earth again. It was followed by large numbers of Roman candles and the whine of howlers.

The sky was alight with yellow, green and purple, blue and white. It was alive, sparkling and crackling, with the repeated deep booms and loud bangs of yet another rocket going off.

When 20 minutes later the fireworks slowly died down, he turned to Spock.

"Happy new year," he said, smiling.

Spock's attention shifted from the fading display in the sky to the human at his side and he nodded.

Then he did a slow turn around himself, taking in his surroundings. After a moment, he started walking slowly in the direction of the farm, tilting his head, clearly listening to the crunching sound his feet where making in the snow.

He crouched down and took a handful of snow, holding it closely in front of his face. He sniffed, then carefully licked at it.

He looked up. "Fascinating," he said quietly. "There is such an abundance of water here."

Again his eyes swiped over the huge expanse of snow on the land around the farm and to where the first lights of the town glinted in the distance.

It was a cold, clear night with every star visible in the sky. The nearly full moon gave enough light that Jim could easily see the Vulcan and recognise the awe on his face.

"You should see the sun glistening on the snow during daytime," he said softly. "It looks like thousands of diamonds. It's beautiful."

Spock nodded.

"And snow can be a lot of fun too. Skiing, riding a sleigh, building a snowman, making snow angels, and lets not forget the famous snowball fights."

"Snow angels?"

Jim grinned at the curious expression. "Yeah, like that."

He spread his arms wide and let himself fall backwards into the snow.

Spock started forwards, but stopped again when Jim began moving his arms and legs back and forth, still grinning at him. After a moment he carefully stood again and turned to look at his work of art.

"Perfect!" he exclaimed. "Now you."

But Spock shook his head. "I decline the offer. It may not be wise to immerse myself further in snow."

"Further?" Jim asked puzzled.

"My feet are wet," Spock stated.

"Oh," Jim said. Looking down at his own black indoor dancing shoes he became aware that his feet were wet too. And cold. So were his hands and his legs, that were clad in black dress pants that were wet now also.

He looked at Spock again, taking in his equally inadequate clothing and realized with a start that the Vulcan was shivering.

"Shit. You're freezing! Come on, let's hurry back inside."

For the second time that night he dragged Spock with him, but this time the Vulcan went willingly, clearly intent on getting out of the cold.

They scrambled inside the house and Jim led the way to the living room and switched on the light.

"Take your shoes and wet socks off, I'll get you some dry ones."

Jim backed out of the room again and ran upstairs to his room. He took off his own clothing, partially wet and put on a fresh t-shirt and sweatshirt and also thick socks and sweat trousers. He was about to grab the same ensemble for Spock when he remembered that the Vulcan was taller than he was.

So he ran to his brothers room to fetch a set of clothes from him and ran back down to the living room where he found Spock shivering on the couch, still in the coat and his naked feet tucked under him. Though it was warm in here, it was obviously not warm enough for the Vulcan.

"Shit," Jim exclaimed again. "Here, I brought you warm clothes and socks. Change, Spock, before you turn into an icicle. I'll light the fire."

While Spock stiffly pulled on Sam's clothes Jim lit the fire. He fetched the blanket from the back of the couch and sat down on the rug in front of the fire.

When Spock hesitantly joined him he tucked the blanket around the shaking shoulders.

"Thank you," Spock said, so softly that Jim almost didn't hear him.

Jim nodded grimly. "It's all my fault. I didn't think, I should've realized you'd be sensitive to cold. And in those inadequate clothes. I am sorry."

Spock said nothing and they sat there for a moment watching the flames. Jim was mad with himself and restless because of it and so he stood up again.

"I'll make you some hot tea, ok? You like tea, don't you?"

"Affirmative. But you do not need to worry, I will be fine soon."

Jim shook his head. "I was so stupid. I'll be back in a minute." And he fled from the room.

When he came back to the living room with the teapot and two mugs, Spock had pulled the blanket more tightly around himself and had scooted closer to the fire.

Jim saw with dismay that he was still shivering, in fact it seemed worse now than when they'd come in.

Jim sat down next to the Vulcan, poured a cup of tea and held it out to him.

Spock took it, but his hands trembled so much that he nearly spilled the liquid. Jim hurried to take the cup back.

"I ap-pologize," Spock chattered.

Jim was terrified. What if Spock got ill? Why did he seem colder now than he was some time ago?

Without thinking Jim wrapped his arms around Spock and the blanket around them both. He rubbed Spock's back and shoulders for a while and then just held him tight.

"I am so sorry," he murmured against Spock's neck.

"Jim," the deep voice said next to his ear, "do not worry so. I am not harmed, merely cold."

"But it's my fault. I practically forced you to come here with me. What if you get ill?"

"I am not harmed," Spock repeated firmly, "and you did not force me. You were ... persuasive."

Jim chuckled at that. "Yeah, persuasive, that's me. Still, that was dumb. We weren't that drunk, were we?"

"I do not think so. I did not feel incapacitated."

Now Jim grinned against the Vulcan's neck.

"Ah. So you have feelings after all."

Spock stiffened a bit and Jim started rubbing his back again, soothing. "It's okay, I won't tell."

"Jim..."

"Shhhh."

They sat like that for a while longer until Spock relaxed and stopped shaking.

Only then Jim pulled back and handed a fresh cup of tea to Spock who took it, wrapped both hands around it and drank slowly.

Jim watched him, the long fingers, the dark lashes against the pale cheeks and a deep feeling of tenderness made his heart ache.

So he looked away, back into the fire. It would not do for Spock to notice that.

"May I ask you something?"

The quiet voice startled Jim out of his thoughts. "Sure. What do you want to know?"

"Why do you have a transporter in a private home? I did not know that this was common on earth."

Jim shook his head. "It's not. My father was the chief of security on the Enterprise. Uncle Bob - Captain April - wanted him to be able to visit his family and be back right away when something came up. So he got a transporter here. Mom was livid, of course."

"What does your father do now?" Spock asked.

"He's dead."

Jim clenched his fists and bowed his head. Suddenly one feeling from earlier that evening came back with a vengeance. His father had left him, and now Sam was going to leave, too. What if Sam didn't come back, either?

He closed his eyes, trying not to lose his composure in front of a Vulcan of all people.

A warm hand clasped his shoulder.

"I grieve with thee."

He couldn't help but look up into the dark eyes that now shone with compassion. Spock's face was only inches from his and Jim had to breathe through his nose and blink several times to keep from bawling like a baby. He shivered once and Spock reacted by leaning forward and pulling him close, like Jim had done earlier.

Jim let himself be engulfed in strong arms. He pressed his face into Spock's neck and wrapped his arms around Spock's back. Still he breathed deeply, gulping back the sobs that wanted to escape. He became aware of Spock's scent then, a unique pleasing scent like - moonlight over the desert.

"I am ... flattered," Spock murmured into his ear.

Jim sighed. "What?"

"I like your scent too," Spock said softly.

Jim chuckled.

"Thanks. Otherwise it would be too embarrassing. I hadn't realized I'd said that out loud."

Spock stiffened and drew back.

Jim frowned. "What? What's wrong?"

"You..." Spock swallowed heavily and Jim felt something like dread, that was so alien to the contentment he'd felt only moments earlier that he shuddered in reaction.

"What?!" he demanded again, more harshly and Spock flinched.

"You did not say it out loud. I am... a touch telepath."

Jim gaped. "What?" he said again only to silently mock himself for his eloquence.

Spock released Jim, withdrawing physically and at the same time Jim felt him withdrawing emotionally also. "That was unforgivable. I intruded on your thoughts. I beg your pardon."

When Spock started to stand Jim reached for him and managed to grab his hand. The Vulcan tried to pull away, but Jim held tight.

"Spock. No. Look at me," he demanded.

For a heartbeat the Vulcan did not move, then slowly the dark eyes met his again.

Jim tried to open up completely, knowing now that Spock would sense his feelings through their clasped hands.

"I forgive you," he said clearly.

Spock gasped.

Jim tugged at his hand and Spock sank back down onto the rug. Slowly as if not to unnerve him, Jim put his arms around him again. When a moment later Spock returned the embrace, Jim let out a breath he hadn't known he'd held.

"Are you all right?" he whispered and felt a surge of joy when Spock nodded.

Jim caressed Spock's lean back, stroking up and down and up again. He trailed his fingertips over the warm skin on Spock's neck. Feeling him shiver at the soft touch, Jim tightened his grip.

When Jim's fingers moved into the soft, heavy black hair and started lightly massaging Spock's scalp, Spock moaned deep in his throat.

The sound went straight to Jim's dick. Suddenly he was rock hard and shivery with need. At the same time he still felt that aching tenderness. He pressed a kiss onto Spock's throat and then pulled the dark head down so that he could lick Spock's ear.

Spock shivered hard and moaned again.

"Ohgod," Jim breathed into Spock's ear, "can I kiss you? Please?"

As an answer Spock shifted so that his mouth was directly in front of Jim's. The tips of their noses touched, then Spock tilted his head some more and their lips met.

Jim gasped and felt Spock's arms nearly crushing him in reaction. He still had his hands in Spock's hair and tightened his grip too, he pulled Spock's mouth even closer and started caressing the hot lips with his own.

Spock made a small sound, like a whimper and opened his mouth.

Jim's heart started beating double time, he felt its pounding throughout his body. His dick was aching, demanding attention. Jim crawled on top of Spock, pushing the Vulcan backwards onto the floor and started kissing him in earnest, sucking at Spock's tongue, licking the roof of his mouth and lightly biting his lips. At the same time he started moving against Spock, couldn't help himself, he had to increase the friction.

Spock had his hands on Jim's ass now, kneading the firm backside and holding him in place at the same time, taking the rhythm from Jim and moving in synch with him. And all the time he was moaning and sighing into Jim's mouth, and each sound went straight to Jim's heart.

Then it wasn't enough anymore. Jim started to tuck at the shirt to get it out of the way, his hands searching for bare skin. Spock reached to help him, and together they discarded their clothes, flinging the pieces in the general direction of the couch.

Then Jim was on top of Spock again, rubbing his whole body against Spock's and they both gasped when their dicks rubbed together.

"Oh, Jim," Spock breathed and Jim lost it, humping against Spock frantically once, twice and then spilled his hot seed between them. Spock cried out and then he was shuddering through his own climax, crushing Jim to him with Vulcan strength.

They both lay gasping and shuddering for a while. When he could move again, Jim lifted his head to look at the man lying beneath him, warm and relaxed. He smiled and laid his hand on Spock's chest. Languidly he moved his fingers through the dark chest hair, brushing over dusky nipples that hardened into little peaks at his touch.

"I still want you," Jim whispered, "you're so beautiful."

"Nobody has ever called me that," Spock said, very quiet.

"Then they're fools," Jim said fiercely.

He bent down to kiss Spock again, losing himself in the warm mouth. Spock's hands began caressing his sweaty back, raising goosebumps on Jim's skin. Jim chewed lightly along the line of Spock's chin, licking the little warm place just beneath Spock's ear, and smiled when the action earned him a shiver.

He started to lick his way down Spock's neck, spending some time mouthing the delicious place where the soft chest hairs covered the collarbone, reveling in the difference of the texture. While his hands and fingers drove light circles down Spock's arms and side, he kissed, nipped and licked a path to one of those dark, tight nipples and then he sucked it into his mouth.

Spock hissed in pleasure and started to writhe beneath him.

Jim blew some cold air over the little nub and Spock shivered again, hard.

"You drive me ab-so-lute-ly crazy," Jim said hoarsely. He pushed himself up on his arms to look down at Spock's flushed face, slightly greener than before, but so beautiful on his olive skin.

Spock was breathing hard, his eyes glued to Jim's face, his hands now like steel bands around Jim's biceps.

"I want you," Jim said, "Spock, may I...?"

He faltered and closed his eyes. How did one ask without sounding crude or sappy? And how did one proceed without acting like... like the virgin he was, never having had sex with a man before?

"Anything you want," Spock said, his voice sounding rougher and deeper than ever and full of wanting.

Jim's eyes flew open and he nearly couldn't believe the naked look of longing on Spock's face. The Vulcan mask was completely gone, leaving Spock strangely vulnerable.

That look scared Jim more than his own fierce need. Suddenly he was terrified he might do something wrong. Terrified he might hurt Spock - or make a fool out of himself.

The expression on Spock's face changed, a subtle shift from longing to understanding and Jim remembered belatedly that Spock could know what he was feeling through their touching.

"Do not worry so," Spock whispered, repeating what he'd said earlier that evening. "You will not hurt me."

"But, I've no experience with this. I've never..." Jim had to swallow, his mouth was so dry. This was fast getting impossible. He prepared to move aside, break their contact, anything to get away from those intense eyes, but Spock wouldn't let him.

"Jim."

When Jim looked at him again, Spock said calmly, as if he'd speak to a skittish animal: "I can link our minds. Then you will _know_ that you do not hurt me."

Jim's eyes opened wide. "Then I would feel what you do as you do now feel what I do?" he asked.

"Correct."

"Okay, do it."

Spock released his left biceps and put his hand on Jim's face instead.

"My mind to your mind..." he whispered.

There was a slight struggle, when Jim instinctively shied away from the intrusion. Spock retreated immediately, his presence hovering just at the fringes of Jim's mind. Encouraged Jim beckoned him to come forward, opening up, and then, like a gentle embrace, Spock was right there with him.

Jim could sense the need and longing for him, that still burned brightly through Spock and feeling this his own need flared up again, hot and urgent.

"I too have never had sex with a man," Spock whispered.

They were gazing into each other's eyes and with the link in place, Jim felt like he could look right into Spock's very soul. He was breathing heavily and he felt himself shaking.

"Spock..." he said, his voice sounding strangled.

"Anything you want," Spock whispered.

Jim bent down and kissed him again.

Spock kissed him back and it felt like he was devouring him, drinking and breathing him. It made Jim feel precious and wanted, and dizzy with need.

Then Jim pulled back and said: "Stay right here."

He stood and clambered upstairs to his room, pulling the bedside drawer open and fumbling for the lubricant inside. He snatched the tube and ran downstairs again.

He sat next to Spock and ran his eyes over the strong lean body. Then he put his hands on Spock's face and started stroking him, cheeks and chin, drawing little patterns with his palms and fingers, down the broad chest, over the flat belly, then the strong thighs.

Spock closed his eyes and opened his legs wider, giving Jim better access.

Jim moved between Spock's legs, stroking his inner thighs and down his calves. He circled Spock's ankles with his hands and let them rest there for a moment, feeling the bones beneath the skin.

"So strong. So fragile," Jim murmured.

He leaned down and kissed the inside of Spock's knees, then kissed and nibbled his way upward, along the soft skin at the inside of Spock's thighs, to the place where his thighs met the hips and where the skin was even softer.

"So soft," Jim whispered, reverently and Spock shuddered.

"Jim..."

"Yes, yes."

Jim put one hand at the base of Spock's penis. He stroked languidly up the whole length, exploring the double ridges at the head with his fingertips and laughing softly with joy when Spock arched his back and helplessly pumped his hips upwards, pushing into his hand.

"Oh yes," Jim crooned and bent down and took the tip into his mouth as far as he could.

Spock cried out and grabbed Jim's shoulders.

Jim started licking, sucking and nibbling, all the while pumping the shaft with his hand in rhythm with the sucking motion. His other hand was busy rolling Spock's balls gently.

He could taste Spock's earlier come, first a bit cold and sticky, but soon he had licked him clean and now wanted nothing more than to make him come again and taste him fresh and warm.

Spock's wild pleasure at both his actions and his wants surged through Jim's mind and Jim hummed his own joy and need around Spock's dick.

Spock's hands opened and closed on his shoulders, the Vulcan was sobbing, little hiccup breaths of pure need, and Jim knew he couldn't draw this out much longer, even if he wanted it to last forever.

Oh, how he wanted this to last, but his own need was overwhelming and so he sucked once more, hard, and Spock made a wailing sound and spilled into his mouth.

Jim swallowed and then licked the softening organ clean.

Spock whimpered. "Jim, please...."

He released Jim's shoulder, wrapped his hands around his legs and drew them up to his chest.

Jim hastily rose to his knees, fumbled again for the lube, put a generous portion on his palm and squeezed the liquid around his own dick.

He gasped and nearly came from the sudden stimulation of his weeping erection, and because he knew that he couldn't possibly last much longer, he leaned forward and positioned himself at the entrance to Spock's body.

He started pushing forward, slowly, felt Spock relax and give way, and then he was all the way in. He briefly wondered at the ease; there was no pain coming from Spock, only joy, wild and radiant, at being filled. Spock was broadcasting his pleasure and so Jim could just give himself over to his own feelings.

"You are so tight, so hot. Gods, Spock, so, so..."

Jim babbled, and leaned forward, pushing Spock's legs over his shoulders and putting his own arms next to Spock's torso on the floor. Sweat was dripping from his forehead onto Spock's belly. Jim leaned forward even more and rolled his hips, and Spock suddenly shouted and started shaking.

"Jim, ah, do that again..."

So Jim did, sweating and gasping and shivering, then he started moving, finally, slowly building a rhythm, faster and harder. He closed his eyes to not see Spock any longer, because it was just too much, way too much stimulation, seeing Spock trashing his head, mouth open, moaning constantly.

Jim was on fire, inside and out, Spock's pleasure intertwined with his own, doubling and re-doubling, and he just gave himself over to it and finally screamed through his second orgasm that night.

He collapsed on top of Spock, feeling to weak to do anything more than breathe, feeling like all the bones in his body had turned to mush.

Spock didn't seem to mind his weight, he still had his arms and legs wrapped around him, holding him in a gentle embrace.

After a while their bodies cooled down and when Spock started to shiver, Jim knew it was time to get up.

He disentangled himself from Spock. Smiling down on the somewhat disheveled looking Vulcan he said softly: "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Jim pulled the blanket over Spock and went into the bathroom. He returned with a wet, warm washcloth and gently cleaned Spock's body, then his own from their mixed fluids.

Spock's dark eyes were intend on him and whenever he looked into them Jim still felt the connection they shared. There was only contentment and tenderness between them, leaving no room for doubts or awkwardness.

After the cleanup they dressed in their formal wear. The clothes were dry now and warm, though wrinkled, but that couldn't be helped.

Outside it was just dawning and they both knew it was time to return to the academy if they didn't want to get caught.

Jim made sure the fire was out and the living room was in order once again.

In synch they went into the little transporter room and in seconds they were back at the bigger room inside the academy.

Spock listened for sounds of other people in the corridor, but everything was deserted, and so they slipped out and went in the general direction of the cadet's quarters.

They reached a point where Spock had to go left to his quarters, while Jim had to go right, and that was when they stopped. They locked gazes, reading in each other's eyes equal dismay at having to part. Jim leaned forward at the same time Spock did, their arms came around each other and they kissed.

It was a gentle kiss, but intense nonetheless and they drew it out as long as they could, holding each other close.

Then, finally, it was Spock who drew back and let Jim go. Jim felt regret, like a weight in his chest, and knew it was coming from Spock. Before Spock could say something, Jim laid his hand against the Vulcan's chest.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Jim said softly, "in your free time, right?"

Jim felt the regret melt away and a quiet, intense joy taking its place.

Spock nodded.

"As you wish."

*** // ***

Four weeks later cadet Kirk was summoned to Admiral Santori's office.

When he entered, the Admiral looked up from a report he was reading and frowned deeply at the young man.

Jim stood at attention and waited for the reason for his being here.

"Mr Kirk. These are the transporter logs from the last month and they are indicating that there was an unauthorized transport during the night of the 31st of December. And then back in again in the morning of the 1st of January. The logs show that there were two humanoids transported, but somehow their patterns were deleted from the computer."

Jim stood still, secretly holding his breath and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"The person tampering with the computer forgot to erase the coordinates though, so we know where those two people where beaming to. It was your home, cadet."

Jim closed his eyes briefly.

"What can you tell me about that, Mr Kirk?"

Jim drew a deep breath. "Sir. Yes, it was me, Sir."

The Admiral glared at him. "Who was the other person?" he demanded.

Jim swallowed.

"Sir, I'd rather not tell you. It was my idea so I'll take full responsibility."

The Admiral nodded. "I see. Very well. You are confined to your quarters for one week, with the exception of your duties and your classes, of course. This is the punishment for leaving the campus without permission. After that week you will meet with fellow students who are not as gifted in computer skills as you obviously are. You will see to it that they catch up and rise in their test levels and you will spend all your free time with this for the following three weeks. You will report to me on their progress and give me a detailed report on your whereabouts throughout the entire month. Understood?"

Jim nodded gravely. "Yes, Sir."

The Admiral finally lost his scowl. He sighed. "I hope you will put your skill to productive use after that. That's all. Dismissed."

Jim saluted and fled the room.

*** // ***

A year later, another new year's eve party was in full swing at the Starfleet campus. Jim Kirk had his back against the wall, his legs casually crossed at the ankles, his hands shoved inside the pockets of his black trousers. But this time there was no trace of boredom in his features. He grinned at his companion, who stood next to him, hands clasped behind his back, face a careful blank, sternly telling him:

"I do not intend to display my inadequacy at this skill. If you had indicated that you wanted me to do this, I could have done some...."

"Research?" Jim interrupted, his mirth clearly in his voice. He leaned toward one delicately pointed ear and whispered: "You should know by now that there is nothing like practice."

Spock looked down at his shoes, studying the shiny tips as if they were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

Jim leaned a tad closer, his mouth now so close to Spock's ear that his lips nearly touched it, and still whispering, said: "It's a slow waltz. You'll catch up on it in no time. I'm a good leader."

"Indeed," Spock murmured, "and very ... persuasive."

Jim threw his head back and laughed out loud. When he recovered from the fit he found dark eyes watching him with amusement. Jim held out his hand and Spock took it.

Together they stepped out onto the dance floor. Jim's hand was firm against Spock's back and as Jim had predicted, Spock did catch on after only three circulations.

So Jim pulled Spock closer and they moved in synch as long as the music lasted.

When the waltz ended Jim said: "Let's go find some quiet place to watch the fireworks."

Spock inclined his head. "We could go to the roof. Nobody will be there now."

Jim knew that Spock was talking about the roof of the cadet's quarters building, not the one of the building they were in now. He nodded and together they went for their coats.

Ten minutes later they stood on said roof, leaning against the railing and looking over the other buildings toward the bubbling and bustling of the people that would start the fireworks any minute now.

They stood shoulder to shoulder, but when they heard the people starting the countdown, Spock's arms came around Jim's waist and Jim leaned into him.

"There is no snow here," Spock said.

"But you're here," Jim answered quietly, "that is all I need."

In the distance, a Roman candle illuminated the sky. Spock whispered: "Happy new year."

Jim leaned forward and kissed him.


End file.
